All alone on the stage, almost as skinny as his mic stand. Dark hair damp with sweat, sticking to his face. Closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let fly the flaming arrows of his soul.
He was burning up, burning out, going nova before our eyes. Layer after layer of plasma blown off, engulfed us in brilliance and blew us helplessly away.
He faded into the applause when the set was over. Only ashes left, scattered on the scuffed floor, still among the dropped picks and duct tape.
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